Ballroom Blitz (7 page)

Seth had been in a lousy mood all week, which hadn’t made rehearsing fun. When she called her BFF Sara, who was also Seth’s sister, to ask what was going on, Maggie ended up confessing her problems and the perplexing situation with Jon. She and Sara dissected it ten different ways and neither could come up with a plan besides to let it ride.

Maybe Maggie was a fool to think there was something there besides a few sexy looks, hot touches and stolen kisses, but that didn’t stop her from hoping she’d see him again, either in class or outside of it.

Right now, she had a bigger problem. She turned the key in the ignition one more time and heard nothing but clicks.

“Piece of shit car.” Maggie banged her fists on the steering wheel.

Of course it had to be pouring rain. Not the warm, summertime showers, which were a welcome relief after a scorching day. No, the wind blew so hard it shook her little car. The inside of the windows were so fogged up she could barely see her headlights.

That was a good sign, wasn’t it? That the headlights were working even if they were dim? When she reached forward to wipe off the condensation, she accidentally laid on the horn and spooked herself good.

Get a grip, Maggie.

She unplugged her cell phone from the car charger and groaned. Even her cell was dead. Looked like she had no choice but to go back into the gym and call a cab.

Just as she turned to open her car door, she noticed a hooded figure peering in her window. She screamed and scrambled into the passenger’s seat, thoughts of psychotic killers disabling cars in deserted parking lots running through her brain.

The door opened and the hooded figure’s head was inside the car. “Maggie? It’s me.”

“Jon? What are you—”

“I was driving by and I saw your car was still here. Is everything okay?”

“No. My car won’t start and I don’t know what’s wrong with it.”

“It’s pouring out here too damn hard for me to take a look.” He held out his hand. “Come on. I’ll get you home.”

Touching him released a pulse pounding rush of sexual awareness, and she knew by the dark look in his eyes he felt it too.

Maggie grabbed her stuff and made a mad dash for Jon’s vehicle, but she was still soaked to the skin when she climbed inside.

Jon shoved her bag in the backseat. “It’s a frog strangler out there, eh?”

She shivered. “I won’t complain because we need the rain, but doesn’t it just figure I’d have car trouble tonight.”

He reached over, letting his thumb sweep over her jawbone.

Maggie shivered harder, but she didn’t jerk away. “What?”

“You splashed mud on your face.”

“Thanks.” She stared at him. “You missed class this week.”

“I had to deal with band stuff.”

That was evasive.

“Raven didn’t tell you?”

“No, she was pretty enamored with her substitute partner.”

Jon frowned. “I would’ve called you directly to let you know but I didn’t have your number.”

Or you were avoiding me after that steamy kiss Saturday night and the run-in with my brother.

She waved him off. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me. Look, Maggie—”

“Forget it. I’m tired, wet and I just want to go home. I do appreciate you rescuing me tonight, so thanks.”

“No problem.” Jon started the vehicle and paused at the parking lot exit. “Which way?”

“Left. I live out on Burner Road.”

Rain fell in sheets, so heavy at times Jon slowed to a crawl on the city streets. “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen it rain this hard.”

Maggie peered out the side window. Water was running over the gutters and at least six inches of water covered the city streets. “Me either.”

“My brother would make a crack about the tribe’s rain dances finally working. I’ll bet the creek is running high.”

Creek. She hadn’t even thought about that. “Dammit.”

He shot her a glance. “What?”

“The only way to get to my place is over Burner Bridge and it crosses the creek.”

Jon pulled into a parking lot. “That’s a problem. Too dangerous to try and cross it now, either on foot or by car.”

She knew he was right, but that further limited her options. It’d be rude to show up and Billy and Eden’s place this late, without calling. Chances were high all the hotels were full since they were in the height of tourist season. Her friends lived in Rapid City.

“I know this puts you in a bind. So if you want, you can stay with me. I have an empty guest bedroom. Tomorrow morning I’ll bring you back and maybe I can figure out what’s wrong with your car.”

Alone. With Jon White Feather. All night. This would definitely be a test of willpower.

“If you’re worried I’m gonna tie you up with duct tape, call Eden and Billy so they know where you are.”

That conversation wouldn’t go well since Billy had already warned her off Jon. Plus, Maggie would be mortified to make the call—she was a thirty-two-year-old woman, not a sixteen-year-old girl reporting in that she was breaking curfew. “The phone call isn’t necessary. If you do decide to tie me up, I hope you use something besides duct tape. That gummy residue is a bitch to scrub off skin.”

He was shocked for a millisecond before he granted her that sexy smile. “Good to know.”

They didn’t speak for the rest of the drive, unless she counted him muttering about the lousy visibility and horrible road conditions.

He veered off to the right onto a gravel road outside of Spearfish Canyon. The Black Hills spruce trees formed a canopy above them, softening the deluge. When they reached a big iron gate, he pointed a remote control device at the box on the fence post and the gate swung open.

“Wow. Fancy.”

“It discourages pesky relatives, door-to-door salespeople and bible thumpers who want to save my eternal soul.”

Maggie suspected it also kept out fans, or groupies, or whatever they were called.

Water had pooled in spots in the road, turning it into a mud bog.

Jon dropped it into four-wheel drive and said, “Hang on,” before he gunned it.

They bumped up a hill and when it leveled out she caught her first glimpse of the place he called home. Security lights illuminated a ranch-style log house with a small deck on the front and a two-car garage on the far left side. “This place is so well lit.”

“The security system attached to the gate alerts me if someone enters through it. The sensors tell me if someone tries to get around it on foot.”

“Got a stockpile of valuables you’re protecting?”

“Nope. Just my privacy.” He poked the garage door opener clipped to the visor.

“You sure I won’t be intruding?”

He stopped the vehicle halfway through the garage door and turned to look at her. “I wouldn’t have asked you to stay with me tonight if I wasn’t sure.”

That could be taken a couple of different ways.

Maggie whistled after they’d parked. “This is the cleanest garage I’ve ever been in. How long have you lived here?”

Jon grabbed her bag from the backseat. “Three years. It’s clean because I haven’t been here that much.”

He kept his hand on the small of her back as they exited the garage into a mud room. He set her bag on the washer, unzipped his hoodie and tossed it in a big sink.

Oh man. Her mouth dried seeing the wet T-shirt clinging to every muscle of his upper arms and chest. This man had such a beautiful body. Well-defined arms, contoured pecs, flat stomach. He unlaced his hikers and peeled off his socks, dropping them in the sink. He glanced up at her. “I freakin’ hate wet socks.”

Don’t you hate wet shorts too? Maybe you oughta strip off those camo shorts so I know firsthand whether you’re a boxers or briefs guy.

When her gaze met his, his startling blue eyes danced with amusement. “Do you have dry clothes in your bag?”

“Nothing besides dance clothes.”

“I’ll lend you something. I’ll show you to your room.”

Maggie had the impression of bright colors and Native American artwork as he led her down a long hallway. He opened the second door and flipped on the lights. “The bathroom is through that pocket door. Hang tight for a sec and I’ll grab some clothes.”

She had time to wander the cozy room, with its terra-cotta-colored walls and vibrant turquoise accents. The queen-size bed faced a window, although it was too stormy to see the view.

Jon was back before she ventured into the bathroom. “My former tour manager left these on the bus and somehow they ended up at my place.” He passed her a pair of neon yellow Capri sweatpants and a gray tank top with Sapa emblazoned across the front.

“Thanks.” Maggie’s bra and underwear were fairly dry so she didn’t have to go commando beneath the borrowed clothes. She tracked Jon to the kitchen. Not an ostentatious space, but homey. A cooktop was in the center island, which was surrounded by a horseshoe-shaped eat-in counter and six leather barstools. Lightning flashed above her head. She glanced up at the reflection in four enormous skylights. “Those are great.”

“Jim knows I like to look at the stars, so he designed this house with that in mind.” He took a sip of bottled water. “Would you like something to drink? Water, soda, iced tea. I’m not much for alcoholic beverages, but there’s probably a bottle of wine rolling around here someplace.”

“Water is fine. Although it seems silly to be thirsty when I was just drenched to the skin.” She was still shaking, but she was beginning to think it wasn’t from the cold. The heated way Jon looked at her should be setting her blood on fire.

“I’ll show you around the rest of the house while I still can. Electricity can be wonky out here during storms.” He hit a switch, flooding the living area with light.

The furniture faced a brick fireplace that took up almost the entire back wall. A coffee table crafted from a gnarled tree root was centered on top of a vivid rug, patterned with Native American symbols. When Maggie ran her hand along the back of the couch, her fingers encountered baby soft leather. “I could just curl into this couch and doze off.”

“Go ahead. I spend a good chunk of my time with my feet up, staring aimlessly upward.”

After she’d stretched out, she noticed a glass ceiling that nearly spanned the length of the room. “Holy shit.”

“That’s what the insurance company said when I applied for a homeowner’s policy,” he said dryly. “I love it, but it does have drawbacks. Luckily there’s a retractable metal covering, so if something happens while I’m out of town, my house wouldn’t be open to the elements and the critters for months on end.”

“I wish I could see the stars.”

He moved behind her and dimmed the lights.

“Do you have a telescope?”

“Nope.” He sat on the edge of the coffee table, his forearms resting on his thighs. “I prefer looking with the naked eye.”

I’d prefer you looking at me naked with those sexy eyes of yours.

Another smirk curled the corners of his mouth, making her wonder if she’d said that last thought out aloud. “So you’re an amateur astronomer?”

“Not really. It’s not even a hobby. Just something I do for relaxation and fun. What about you?”

“Meaning…do I have hobbies?”

“Meaning…what do you do for relaxation and fun?”

“I haven’t indulged in my favorite way to relax for a long time.”

Pause. Then, “Now you’ve aroused my interest.”

When she realized how suggestive that sounded, she blushed to the roots of her hair. Wait. Had he said aroused?

He chuckled. “The fact you’re blushing gives me all sorts of ideas on how you like to relax. And if I can help you out with that, just let me know.”

Yes, please.

Rain pattering on the glass made a soothing sound. After a bit she said, “I’m surprised you don’t have a TV in here.”

“I’m not a fan of how media has overtaken every part of day-to-day life. It’s like no one can stand silence.”

“Before I lost my job I was always too busy to pay attention to a pretty sunset or a wren warbling in a tree. But now even if Seth keeps me dancing until ten o’clock at night, I make time to empty my head. Just me and nature.”

Jon reached for her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers. “You’re not at all like I imagined you’d be the first day I saw you teaching dance class.”

“Really?”

“Really. And I meant that in a good way.” He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “You looked every inch the prima ballerina. Beautiful, graceful. I expected temperamental, which I haven’t seen. An uppity white girl, which I haven’t seen either. Passionate, which I’ve had just a little taste of.”

She held her breath, waiting for him to say he wanted to see more of that side of her.

But Jon just kept his compelling blue eyes on hers. “You want a tour of the house?”

“Ah, sure.”

Keeping hold of her hand, Jon skirted a large sculpture of an eagle soaring into the sky with a fish clutched in its talons.

They walked past her guest bedroom and he showed her another empty room, which held two sets of bunk beds. “My nephews and nieces stay here a lot when I’m home.”

How sweet that he was so involved in their lives. The next door was set back about ten feet from the hallway. “That’s the den. There’s where you’ll find the flatscreen, DVD player, gaming consoles, foosball table, dart board. Typical single-guy stuff.”

“Do you spend much time in there?”

“Depends on how long I’ve been on the road. But I usually only hang out in there when someone comes over.”

Maggie poked her head inside. Everything looked brand new. He must not do much entertaining.

Jon dropped her hand and faced her at the last door. “This is my bedroom.”

“Do I get to see it?”

“Depends on if it makes you uncomfortable when I admit I’ve imagined you in my bed since we first met. That said, I didn’t offer you a place to stay so I could sweet talk you into a tumble between my sheets.”

Outwardly she stilled, but inside her heart galloped and her stomach did pirouettes. When he stepped aside to allow her into his room, she murmured, “Well, that’s a shame.”

Maggie took in the king-size bed, the dressers, more big windows, covered with draperies. She peered into the adjoining bath, done in black and chrome. Then she wandered out and perched on the edge of the bed. “Bet you’re happy to come home to this place after being on the road.”